Shannon’s Kitchen: The Cookbook PRE SALE IS OPEN!

It’s bloody HAPPENING.

Pre-order is OPEN*.

My vulgar little book baby is coming in early December 2017. Santa is high-fiving me right now and I’m not going to lie to you, I totally deserve it. 

60 recipes (healthy breakfasts, main meals, sweets/snacks) with a shitload of silly stories, excessive cursing and new heights of erection discussion (both peen and nipple, I don’t discriminate). Hopefully lots of you buy this, because otherwise I may end up pimping out my anus and I have haemorrhoids so that could be quite dangerous. I don’t want to be found dead with descended pantaloons laying in a pool of my own arse-balloon blood. So be a dear, and please buy my book. You will be DELIGHTED**. To secure a copy, head here.


Shannon x

*I built the website myself so if it buggers up, look.. I’m sorry.

**If you tend to be offended by crude language or discussion of ballsacks/rooting/bodily fluids of all types then perhaps do not proceed, just stick with Donna Hay.

P.S. If you are too povo to afford pre-ordering this book, send me an email ( and I will order extra copies and give you first option to buy. And if you don’t follow through and buy it I WILL come to your home and urinate in your pot plants.

OK.. Diets suck penis, but what the f**k should I eat?

Keto. Paleo. Plant-based. Clean-eating. Low-carb. Juice Cleanses. Chocolate & Cocaine. Atkins. 5:2. Shakes. Alkaline Diet. Whole30. Sigh.

What the fuck? It seems like food and diets go hand in hand these days, and it’s fucking annoying. Nutrition experts often get fired up about it because healthy eating can be pretty simple and enjoyable. These diets may work wonderfully for some people, but they’re not a one-size-fits-all caper. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again:

“Everybody is different. You know someone who has transformed their life with a paleo diet. Someone else tried it and got rewarded with a big, fat kidney stone they had to piss out of their tiny dick-hole. You know someone who went vegan, and now they’re healthy as fuck and joyously backing fruit puffs out of their glowing arsehole. Some other poor bastard went vegan and became so deficient in vitamin B12 they had to get shots in the arse. And I’m not talking hot beef injections. You know a skinny low-carb fucker who loves it and thrives. Someone else tried low-carb and had breath like an anus and a brain slower than Tony Abbott’s. And then there’s that fuck-knuckle who eats and drinks whatever the hell they like and never gets sick or fat. You tried that, got so pissed you spewed up your McDonald’s and then shat your fat-pants. So what does this tell us? Fuck all, except that everyone is different and there is no single solution.”

Strict rules around food can backfire. Earlier this year I took to Facebook to rant about clean-eating:

“Clean-eating. What a fucker of a guilt trip. You’ve eaten ‘clean’ all day, then you dip your trotters into the biscuit tin for a cheeky one. A biscuit down, you think, “fuck it, I’ve already dirtied myself today, I might as well go balls deep”. Next minute, you’ve eaten those bags of Doritos and marshmallows you keep hidden for when you’re high, and have buckled yourself into the car en route to visit Ronald the Questionable Clown. The day spirals further out of control and by the end you’re considering dishing out a blozza in exchange for a bag of Skittles* … But you could have just enjoyed the biscuit and moved the fuck on to salad. You’re not ‘naughty’ – you didn’t hose down a crowd of people with your own urine, you ate a friggin’ biscuit. Guilt for eating something decadent shouldn’t exist. Including some fun food in your life is normal and practical, not a punishable offence.”

A tactic I use to avoid getting sucked into the dieting vortex is to stop giving so many fucks. I listen to my body. I make sure I get enough of the good stuff. But if I really want a cheeky donut, I fucking have one. Dr Tim Crowe (a nutrition expert) reckons sticking to the basics of ‘lots of food variety from fresh produce, high in plant-based foods, close to their natural state. Fruits, vegetables, wholegrains, nuts and seeds are the cornerstone, and then lean meat, fish and dairy if these foods agree with you. From there, include foods that you enjoy the taste of that add more variety and enjoyment to your eating, without feeling the need to completely ban or obsess over any particular food or nutrient.’

So how ‘bout dat? You can have a piece of cake here and there, ya flog, just make sure you eat enough veggies.

*Not a recommended deal as you may end up tasting more than ‘the rainbow’.


P.S. If you want nutrition advice, go see a bloody registered nutritionist or dietician! Don’t trust some knob on the Internet Machine.

P.P.S. If you want a cookbook FULL of healthy food you’ll actually fucking eat, click here.



I used to be a morning person. An early riser? Haha, fuck no, but I was fairly cheerful and functional on waking. As a child it meant creeping out of a cosy bed to feed and cuddle my pony, Finn. That little porker didn’t like being made to wait for his chaff and hay, and I didn’t make him, not when he paid in muzzle-kisses. I managed to retain my morning vigour as a young nurse, even when shift-work required showing up at work in a civilised state at 7am. Despite the early rise, I could care for my patients without wanting to clamp their catheter, poke their sore wounds or administer punitive needles to faces. Now, after welcoming two small children, in the morning I am shouting at the sun “Why must you continue to rise you shining ball of shit!” I’m tired. I’m not ready to get out of bed. BUT! When I remember that there are Honey & Nut Bars waiting for me in the fridge, all of a sudden, it’s not all doom and gloom, and I no longer wish for the heart of our solar system’s untimely demise. These are so fucking easy, and such a treat.

Ingredients: makes 12 bars

  • 1 cup peanut butter
  • 4 tablespoons honey
  • 2 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • a bees dick of salt
  • 2 1/2 cups puffed rice (you’ll find this in the health food aisle of the supermarket)

Do it:

  • pop the peanut butter and honey in a saucepan and melt over a low heat
  • while it’s all warm and runny, stir in the puffed rice. Make sure you do this while the mixture is still warm, otherwise it will be like trying to stir corn through shit
  • grease a slice tin (about 20cm square) and line it with baking paper, then press the mixture in nice and flat. Whack it in the fridge for an hour, then it’ll be safe to pull out and slice into bars
  • keep the bars in the fridge and prepare for it to be eaten fast as fuck

Love from a giant dickbeetle,

Shannon x

P.S. This easy as fuck recipe is from my upcoming cookbook Shannon’s Kitchen: The Cookbook (healthy food you’ll actually fucking eat), which is dropping November 2017.

Get it.



Children are annoying*. But that doesn’t mean we want them to die. In fact, parents go to great lengths to ensure their spawn don’t die. So, here is a list of common chokey foods to avoid or slice the fuck out of:

Grapes – These delicious little jerks are perfect for choking small humans. Their size is roughly proportional to windpipes and their skin gets more traction than a dry doodle. Don’t let natural selection have its way: show those chokey-arsed mother-fuckers who is boss and cut grapes lengthwise if your kid is under five.

Sausages and hot-dogs – If the phallic nature of sausages and hot dogs isn’t enough to put you off serving them whole to small children then you might be a pervert. But whether you’re a creep or not, you must slice them anyway to reduce the choke factor. When you cut these fuckers, for the love of god, don’t cut them into coin shapes. They can still get stuck, ya knob.

Chunks of meat/cheese – When I was working as a nurse in the Emergency Department, a woman choked on a big-arse chunk of tuna steak. And this was a fully grown human with a full set of teeth. I was the un-choker (medical term) and it was really bloody hard to dislodge that hunk of fish. Slice meat and cheese thin. I’m talking thinner than you think is reasonable. Like Matthew McConaughey circa Dallas Buyers Club. That’s right: REAL FUCKING THIN.

Whole nuts – You can bake with almond meal, put peanut butter on toast, all that shit, but don’t give little kids whole nuts. They’re chokey. Why don’t you just put a marble in their mouth and call it a day?

Raw carrots and hard fruits – I’m sure your toddler is just DYING to eat raw carrots, but that’s what may actually happen if they do. If they’re having them, slice ‘em up nice and thin. The carrots/fruits that is, not the children. Just to be clear: no cutting the children.

Lollies – Sorry, kids. I don’t mean to ruin your life but here I am doing it. Lollies can be chokey, especially those hard ones but also the gooey, chewy ones. I’m an arsehole, I know.

Popcorn – This chokey doozie surprises many. But this buttery son of a bitch has caused choking deaths in small children. What a delicious fuck-knuckle. Because it’s light and puffy it’s easily inhaled into the windpipe where it then acts like a huge cunt.

Marshmallows – “But they’re soft?!” I hear you wail. DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER. These smooshy pieces of shit LOVE getting stuck in windpipes, then they swell and make that windpipe their home for life. They’re like fluffy, tasty, little squatters and they are very hard to dislodge. Again, sorry kids.

This list is not exhaustive, so use your noggin. Most importantly, if your little’n is eating: make them sit the hell down like a civilised human and stay the fuck with them. Don’t let them free range. They’re not chooks with raging beaks that can peck the fuck out of food, they’re little humans, and they are as useless as tits on a bull. But, gee-whizz, we love them.


Love, Shannon x

P.S. Do you know how to un-choke a baby/kid? Do you know how to properly perform CPR on a wee one? Do you know what the fuck to do if a little’n spills hot tea on themselves? They can get third degree fucking burns from a hot cuppa. Their skin burns at much lower temperature than us gristly, leathery, old fuckers. If you don’t know how to do this stuff, take a First Aid for Children course. Nurse Shannon’s orders.

*Proof of how annoying children can be: My four year old son comes out of the toilet and says,”So, Mum..some of my wee went in the bowl, but lots of it went kind of everywhere. Like the floor and the walls. My penis was out of control!” Cue heavy sighs by me and the usage of epic volumes of paper towel.


Royal Children’s Hospital

Raising Children

Better Health – Victorian Government


Peanut Butter Lactation Balls


There was a time when I viewed my breasts like a set of earrings: they came in a pair, they were decorative and they stayed where I put them. Now they are a fully functional apparatus, and they only have a side-gig as ornaments, which if I’m honest, they’re not particularly nailing. They take their milk-producing role seriously, although making enough milk can be bloody hard work sometimes and they need a little help. I’m not talking about Mr Shannon getting in there and yanking on them like I’m an old dairy cow named Trilby, I’m talking about food.

Inspired by Lactation Cookies, these Lactation Balls contain the same tittie-poppin’ ingredients (brewers yeast, oats, flaxseed) but remove many of the fucks you are required to give when making the cookies – because parents have few fucks to give. We are virtually fresh out of fucks most of the time. We have shit on. If I have time to spare I’m not keen to spend 30 minutes in the kitchen, I’m looking to pin crafting activities on Pinterest or do some scrapbooking. I’m fucking with you, I want to do none of those things. Now, allow me to present my balls:


– 1/2 cup peanut butter (get a good one where the only ingredients is peanuts and a bee’s-dick of salt)

– 12 medjool dates (these live in the fresh fruit section, not that shitty dried date section)

– 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

– 1/4 teaspoon salt

– 1/2 cup rolled oats

– 1/4 cup flax meal

– 1 tablespoon brewers yeast

– 1 tablespoon coconut oil

Get ballin’:

– throw it all into a food processor

whizz the shit out of it

– roll it into balls. Big balls or small balls, whatever tickles your fancy

– if you’re not a fan of sticky balls, roll them in desiccated coconut (or crushed peanuts or some similar shit)

– bang them in the fridge

May your titties go boom-boom, and the milk flow freely,

Shannon x

Non-Disappointing Roasted Veggie Soup
















I always have ol’ Ronald McDonald over there in Chip Tunnel winking at me like the devious fucker we all know him to be, tempting me with his burgers and lewdly large feet. To prevent doing myself a culinary mischief, I’ve taken to making big-arse batches of soup to stash away in single portions in the freezer like some sort of outrageously excellent soup-lord.

Soup is a bit of a fizzer at times. I can recall as a child, I often felt like punching faces whenever Mum announced that soup was for lunch. But now I’m less of a cunt and more pro-vegetable (still a bit of a cunt though). Regardless, this soup is never disappointing. It’s like an ever-erect peen: always ready to deliver, always filling, but without the risk of developing oral sores and no stray pubes to spoil matters.


– one small pumpkin cut into cubes

– 1 sweet potato peeled and cut into cubes

– 1 or 2 red capsicums cut into strips

– 2 to 4 cloves of garlic depending on your tastebuds and breath insecurity

– smoked paprika and cumin

– drizzle of whatever the fuck oil you like

–  1 cup vegetable/chicken/beef stock (that’s ‘broth’ to you modern silly sausages, you crazy kids)

– 1 cup coconut milk/cream

– a bit of natural yoghurt or coconut cream or moo-cow cream to plonk in the bowl at the end (entirely optional, but mandatory if you worshipped Prince and desire the cream to get on top)

 Work the magic:

– preheat oven to 180C (360F)

– place vegetables into a baking dish and drizzle with oil, sprinkle the smoked paprika and cumin on there. Roast those guys for 50-60 minutes so they’re soft and easily crushed (aka ‘smooshable as all fuck’)

– to make the soup, mix those veggies with the coconut milk and stock, and then whizz that brew. You can do it with a bar-mix or throw it in the blender. Don’t burn your fucking self. If it’s too thick add some more stock or coconut milk. If it’s too runny, well, it’s too fucking late and I’m sorry for ruining your lunch, but it’s just soup so don’t get too bloody cranky

– serve nude or with a smidge of your chosen cream. I love sprinkling a bit of nutmeg on that shit. I know what you’re thinking, “Shannon, you are one classy piece of arse,” and I appreciate that


Shannon x


The Internet Machine is confusing and troubling at times, and I’m not just referring to the sexually explicit material containing grandmas, spatulas, tiny dogs and Bratwurst sausages. I’m also talking about ‘wellness’. 

Although I’m part of this overwhelming dialogue on food/health, I would advise you to be a discerning consumer of information or you might end up trying all kinds of silly shit:

– You might end up cutting up your perfectly fine garden hose, not for a DIY bong, no, to insert unusual ingredients into your rectum for that super-fresh-arsed glow. No.

– You might convince yourself that protein shakes don’t taste like penis. No, they do taste like penis.

– You might give up all carbohydrates and end up with a mouth that smells exactly the same as your anus, and a brain that functions so slowly you might as well be rotten-as-a-chop drunk.

– You might end up having to hunt and gather all your food and it is really hard to find M&Ms in the bushes.

– You might get really fucking hungry.

– You might end up giving up god damn FRUIT because it contains sugar. NO. Since when was fruit a fucking TREAT?! 


To avoid these horrors, asking yourself the following may help you sort the shit from the clay:

– Should this knob be giving advice? Are they in any way qualified to offer this advice or are they just being a story-rooster?

– Are their only sources of evidence cherry-picked, small scientific studies or anecdotes/testimonials? Oh, Tom used to be fat, miserable and his whistle wasn’t worth touching, but then he signed up for our expensive diet and now he’s hot as fuck and has near constant whistle-touching. Show me the science, cunt. Mainstream nutrition and healthcare is based on consensus views by experts formed from a plethora of evidence found in countless peer-reviewed studies, not Tom.

– Are they wearing a dream-catcher as a necklace?

– Is this motherfucker trying to sell you something? (I may try to sell you a legendary cookbook in the future, but the chances of me actually finishing it are slim to nil, especially if Mr I Can Pull Out In Time jams a third human up in there.)

– Are they actively encouraging you to reject conventional medicine and treat yourself ‘naturally’? Food has a powerful effect on our bodies – we can all relate to that. Do I believe it can help with chronic health conditions like constipation, PCOS or Type 2 diabetes? Yes (but not always). Do I believe that it can solely cure cancer? Not a fucking chance. It can help put your body in to a balanced state that is better equipped to fight disease, and some constituents and molecules within foods can wage small battles on your behalf like little chemical gangsters, but if you have cancer you march your arse into your doctor’s office and take their advice.

– Are they censoring content with as much enthusiasm as China? (Pete Evans and the Food Babe are notorious for constantly blocking people who post valid questions. That’s a bit dickful).

– Are they incessantly posing looking hot as fuck in their swimwear drinking out of a coconut? Fuck them and their coconuts.

So, that’s how to spot the dingalings. Spotting quality content is even easier. I would recommend seeking inspiration from someone who has found the sensible middle ground. You are unique and your diet can be too. As I said to The Juice Daily,

“a one-size-fits-all diet is mythical. Every body is different. Some people can be vegan and thrive, someone else tries it and ends up with giant needles of Vitamin B12 in their butt. Some people are trim and energetic on a paleo diet, someone else tries it and ends up pissing out a giant kidney stone making their wee-hole resemble Hiroshima. Some people can eat/drink anything without consequence, John Candy tried that and things didn’t turn out so ace. Healthy eating need not be complicated: eat a shit-tonne of plants (mostly vegetables); eat a variety; processed food ain’t good; go easy on red meat; drink water.”

Just tailor it to suit your body and your lifestyle, and if you have a specific health concern, see a nutritionist or dietician. Don’t trust some random fuckknuckle on the Internet Machine who wants you to consume only juice for a god damn week, and has less accountability than Charlie Sheen.

Fuck some of those bloggers off,

except me, keep me, I’m grouse,

Shannon x

P.S. Some health blogs I respect include:

The Nutrition Guru and the Chef

Thinking Nutrition

The Nutrition Press

An Inappropriate Open Letter to the Easter Bunny:

Please don’t bloody ruin Easter. 

There’s some crazy shit getting around this Easter on the ol’ internet machine. I saw a health-food site recommending the Easter Bunny put ‘fresh fruit in Easter baskets’. How fun! Yes, how fun it will be to ruin the lives of small children. How fun to see the face of an eager little child drop with despair when they reach into their Easter basket and pull out a fucking banana. That sounds like the perfect way to create future serial killers.


Planning on following some flog’s advice to wrap grapes in coloured foil to resemble eggs? You’re a cunt. Hang your head in shame, or better yet, hang your entire self. Another site cruelly suggested that you place ‘beautifully painted hard boiled eggs’ in lieu of chocolate eggs. Hard boiled god damn eggs in an Easter basket. How about go fuck yourself, you fucking sicko.

The only acceptable criteria for withholding chocolate is if the wee humans have allergies, in which case, that’s just bloody sensible and good work for bringing sensitivity this Easter, Señor Bunny.  Allergies are no laughing matter, except when they involve raging diarrhoea because we all know that poo is a reliable source of hilarity.

I’m not saying you should give our children diabetes* this Easter, but a bit of proper dirty chocolate is essential. The daily sugar recommendation is rightfully low, but honestly, on bloody Easter this recommendation can eat a bag of dicks. Your good intentions are appreciated, but those good intentions can simultaneously go fuck themselves.

Giving good quality chocolate is acceptable, but all of this other healthy bullshit is more offensive than an invitation to sit on Rolf Harris’ knee while he watches you eat hot dogs.

So, Easter Bunny, please relax on the healthy shit for just one day. There is a time and a place to be an uptight tossbag about food, and Easter is not it. Please fill our Easter baskets with chocolate and our hearts with the will to continue living.

Bring the flavey-flave, 

Shannon x

*This is clearly a joke based on the loosest thread of reality linking longterm excessive sugar consumption to the development of Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus (distinct from Type 1 Diabetes) and is not a public health message. So please don’t take this joke seriously or believe that a day of gorging on chocolate will lead to diabetes.



This dish is gonna give you some pretty serious garlic breath, so you will need to have a bit of confidence behind you before you hook into this creamy mushroom pasta. I mean, if you’re going to pull this one out on Date Numero Uno, you would want to be packing a pretty huge dick, or have a giant gravity-defying set of titties, because you’re gonna have some breath on you to make up for. 

I love this dish because it’s as basic as all fuck and takes bugger all time to prepare – it is perfect for when you have no patience for food preparation, but give moderate fucks about your health. Plus it’s cheap, which means you will have more money to spend on tossbaggish gluten-free, sugar-free, organic shit or hookers and blow.

Oh! And yes, this sauce is vegan. If you just HAVE to add meat to every dish, then kick yourself in your crotchfruit, because you’re being a stubborn dingaling.

Ingredients: Serves 3 or 4 (depending on greed levels)

– smidge of oil/fat of your choice

– about 600g mushrooms, sliced. Be a classy son of a bitch and get an assortment of mushrooms. I like to use Swiss Brown Mushrooms and those cute little button ones.

– 1 cup of coconut cream

– 1 cup of coconut milk (if you use all coconut cream it goes too gooey and it ain’t right)

– 3 birdseye chillis, finely chopped (those hot little fuckers. Don’t be rubbing your eyes when you cut these tiny bastards up, lest you be blinded for god damn life)

– 3 or 4 teaspoons crushed garlic (I don’t give a shit if you use the stuff out of a jar, or if you want to be a flash prick and use fresh stuff)

– OPTIONAL: a couple of giant handfuls of baby spinach to green that fucker up

– OPTIONAL: chopped fresh parsely. If you want to garnish this with some fresh herbs then you are indeed one excellent champ

– PASTA: do whatever you bloody like here. I like to use a mixture of zucchini noodles (“zasta”) and corn pasta because I’m a complete knob-jockey

Righto, big-dick, let’s go:

– this isn’t going to include instructions for cooking the pasta bit because I don’t know what the fuck you’ve selected and you can really just work that out for your bloody self. Don’t be a needy silly sausage

– heat up a fry-pan over a medium-high heat, plop in a little bit of oil in, then whack in your garlic and chilli and give it a little sizzle for half a minute. Stand back because that fucker will spit like a camel

– next up: the mushrooms, chuck them in. Stir them here and there, and let them saute for about 5 minutes. You want them a little soft but not so flaccid that it makes you sad

– cool that shit down with your coconut cream and milk, and turn the heat down so it’s all just simmering. It will only need about 10 minutes. Don’t let it get too thick or it’ll be gross and it will sit in the corners of your mouth like that tenacious, semi-solid white crud that seems to inhabit some old men’s mouths

– if you elected to add greens, then feel smug and add them now, stir them around and wait for them to wilt

– serve it up over the pasta of your choice, and if you’re one of the fancy ones, toss a bit of fresh herb and cracked pepper over the top

Mushrooms are funny because they sometimes resemble peens,

Shannon x

BBQ Ribs (minus the bloody BBQ)


I don’t think I have hidden the fact that I’m a bit of an animal. Do I mostly eat well? Yes, I do. Do I sometimes show a complete lack of regard for my body and devour ridiculous food because I fucking can? You’re damn right I do, and what could be dirtier than BBQ Ribs? Sexual relations with a faecally incontinent individual who is wearing a silly hat and holding a kitten. That’s dirtier, but not nearly as tasty. A Melbournian BBQ-man named Chris sent me this recipe with the warning: “it’s fatty meat with a sugary sauce – it’s not fucking Lite’n’Easy”. So, consider yourself warned – this is ‘fat fuck’ material. To do this properly, you need big ol’ fat ribs, think: the porcine version of John Candy. You might need to strike up a relationship with your butcher, I will leave the ‘how’ of that up to you. If you buy any ol’ shit, you could end up with ribs that have less meat on them than Matthew McConaughey circa Dallas Buyers Club. So focus on getting the right ribs, you awesome douchenozzles.

Now, we’ve spoken of pork before, remember? We’re not arseholes here, so let’s take as much cuntfulness out of this situation as we can and purchase free-range pork. Pigs are most excellent – let’s not be more dickish than necessary. Alright, kids: roll up your sleeves, this shit is gonna get filthy.


– however many racks of free-range pork ribs you want. No one is here to judge, we’re all in this gooey mess together

– a good BBQ sauce (a smokey, proper one. I found one at the supermarket, it was cheap and fucking grouse. Was it full of sugar? You’re god damn right it was. My nipples are getting hard just thinking about it). For those dedicated souls among us who couldn’t allow such nonsense to enter their inners, saddle up that high horse and ride on over to My Food Religion, that healthy mofo has a recipe for BBQ sauce.

– oil of your choice (or you can use mustard)

– a smidgen of apple juice (or lemon juice)

The ‘rub’:

– paprika

– brown sugar (or coconut sugar)

– salt and pepper

Rub and Rib one out:

– make ‘the rub’. In a bowl, mix up the brown sugar, paprika, salt and pepper to your taste. I used a few tablespoons of sugar as a base, then added the seasonings until it tasted grouse. I just kept ramming my licked finger into the mix until it was ‘rub’ worthy

– get those ribs and trim off any obscenely large pieces of fat. Chris recommends removing the membrane on the back with a butter knife and paper towel. I used my hands because I’m a monster

– now coat those ribs with oil (or mustard), this gives ‘the rub’ something to stick to

– apply a good coat of ‘the rub’ to your ribs. Don’t go silly with it – ‘the rub’ ain’t bronzer and the ribs ain’t whores. When that’s done, wrap them up in plastic wrap and pop them in the fridge for an hour or two

– when you’re ready to get cooking, get the oven cranking to about 110C

– unwrap your ribs and pop them in a roasting dish (put baking paper on the bottom to avoid killing the dish) and cook them (uncovered) for about 2 hours. Then pull those bad boys out, and wrap them aluminium foil along with a little splash of apple juice (or lemon juice), and return them to the oven for 1 more hour

– by now those mother-fuckers should be fairly tender, so get them out of the oven and unwrap them

– it’s BBQ sauce time now, bozos. Slather that shit on like the ribs are an ugly face and the sauce is Chanel makeup. Be liberal – it tastes amazing and it covers up any ugly cock-ups

– get the griller firing on medium/high heat

– pop the sauced-up ribs under the griller. Don’t fucking move. Those little pricks look innocent but they will burn if you let them and you will be a ribless dickhead. This takes around 5-10 minutes, you’ll know they’re done when the sauce becomes tacky on top. It will be stickier than cervical secretions at ovulation time but less gross

– prepare to be dazzled

Yours filthily,

Shannon x